


disruption

by prowlish



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Fingerfucking, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Valve Fingering (Transformers), Voyeurism, i guess??, probably not but oh well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 12:44:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16556000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prowlish/pseuds/prowlish
Summary: Tarn has a bad habit and Deadlock wants to teach him a lesson.





	disruption

**Author's Note:**

> Look. It's just.
> 
> I have no excuse for this. I just love to make Tarn miserable, it's truly my ultimate kink. 
> 
> quick n dirty pwp..................... bye

Deadlock squeezed his hands around the frame which secured Megatron’s berth to the wall, his plating quivering as Megatron himself pulled his hips down tighter, making sure he couldn’t squirm far as his clever glossa teased into his valve. With anyone else, he might be embarrassed by this eagerness — moaning softly and grinding his hips down — but he couldn’t imagine being anything other than secure with Megatron. 

 

In fact, Deadlock had been so eager for this free evening that he’d neglected some of his usual routine, like putting his comm.-link on standby so any messages stayed in queue and wouldn’t disturb him. Deadlock wasn’t a popular choice for conversation, but he would inevitably get a call when he forgot.  

 

That continued to prove true — and with Megatron’s mouth now teasing his anterior node  _ so _ deliciously, truly the last thing he expected was a communication to blare across his HUD. Even more unexpected was who it was from.

 

Tarn.

 

Deadlock’s vents hitched as he tried to focus when Megatron was making him see stars. It would be so simple to just ignore Tarn’s call, put his comm.-link on standby, and deal with his self-important scrap later. But then his memory flashed back on the preceding week, and how Tarn always tried to interrupt or insert himself into off-duty time when it was Deadlock’s and Megatron’s schedules which overlapped. Deadlock smirked to himself — well, if that’s what he wanted…

 

Deadlock answered the comm, his vents still ragged from pleasure and struggling against Megatron’s strong grip on his hips. Even though he heard it pick up and saw the confirmed connection on the side of his HUD, silence was heavy for a moment before he heard Tarn’s voice filter in, touched with disdain.  _ ::What are you _ doing _?::  _

 

Snorting, Deadlock gasped as Megatron used a sharp denta to gently nip at on of the folds of his valve before licking back into him.  _ ::I’m busy. What do you want?:: _

 

He heard another disgusted scoff.  _ ::Why would you answer the call if you’re self-servicing?:: _

 

Deadlock let out a snicker, and between his legs he felt Megatron pause… but he continued on his task.  _ ::Who said I was self-servicing?:: _

 

_ ::It would be like you to rile someone up with such a deception. Your quarters were reported empty, in any case. Where have you taken your depravity now?:: _

 

Deadlock licked his lips as he rocked into Megatron’s ministrations even further.  _ ::Obviously not in my room.:: _

 

Though it was hard to tell without being in the same room as the mech, the ensuing pause seemed quite frustrated to Deadlock. He indulged in a moan as Megatron reminded him again what their difference in size meant for how far his glossa could go. 

 

_ ::You’re a degenerate,:: _ Tarn huffed.

 

Deadlock let out another laugh, though it was shaky with Megatron teasing his node again. He  _ very _ close to an overload by now, and it showed in the way his plating trembled.  _ ::Don’t get mad at  _ me _ — if you weren’t so uptight, maybe you would get invited somewhere for fun, too,::  _ he got out, his hands quivering as he grasped at the berth frame.

 

Tarn was saying something, some protest about how he wasn’t offended by Deadlock getting action, but he wasn’t listening; Megatron had switched focus  _ completely _ to his anterior node, and the tease of his large fingertip in his slick port had moved his overload from impending to present. 

 

And with Tarn on the line, already indignant and giving Deadlock so much fuel to his mischief, he made downright  _ pornographic  _ noises as he rode out his climax. The shocked silence on his end of the call was worth the raised optic ridge look Megatron gave him as he disengaged and moved his frame so that Megatron could lean up close to him. He was just a breath away from kissing him, but instead he just gave Deadlock a searching look. 

 

Megatron was close enough to Deadlock’s helm for his voice to be clear through the comm.-link when he spoke. “Who are you talking to?” he chided.

 

On the other end of the line, Deadlock heard a sharp intake. He practically giggled. “No one important,” he replied.

 

Megatron narrowed his optics, unimpressed. “If that were the case, you would not have answered the comm while I was  _ busy _ down there,” he remarked. He trailed his fingertips over Deadlock’s messy array. “And it does not appear that you were  _ bored _ .” The smaller mech shuddered, his valve contracting around nothing. “So, who was it?”

 

Deadlock opened his mouth to reply at the same time Tarn seemed to find his voice again.  _ ::I swear by whatever unholy god spat you out from his maw that I will pick all your circuits out of your frame one by one if you tell him I am on the line with you,:: _ he threatened. Though, rather than being cowed, Deadlock began laughing again.

 

“Apparently,” he said, “it is a secret.”

 

There was a growl from Megatron’s engine, demonstrating his displeasure at Deadlock’s little defiance. But there was a cunning look to his gaze too, as though he were slotting several pieces of a puzzle together. Given the recent trend of interruptions to their private time, the answer likely wasn’t difficult to figure out.

 

But Tarn was still on the line, and Deadlock wanted to torment him for as long as possible.

 

With another hum through pursed lips, Megatron shook his helm — and dragged his fingertips through the slick fold of Deadlock’s valve again. Either he’d figured it out, or he just didn’t care… or both. But he was getting Deadlock amped up again, and Deadlock poured every gasp and breathy sound into the still-open comm.-link. “Sometimes I wonder,” Megatron said drily, “if you would fabricate such a thing just to get a rise out of me.” 

 

Deadlock grunted as he shifted to more properly straddle Megatron’s lap, and moaned as Megatron took advantage of the better position to sink a digit in his valve. He still managed a breathless laugh. “Why would you think that?” he murmured.

 

Megatron snorted. “You do seem to thrive on negative attention.” A funny choice of words, given the way he worked his finger in Deadlock’s valve.

 

Deadlock just snickered again. “You call this — ah —  _ negative _ attention?” he panted. Instead of replying, Megatron simply added another finger to his gentle thrusting, earning another moan from Deadlock’s lips.

 

Over the comm., he could hear increasingly ragged intake cycles. Had it taken this long for Tarn to touch himself? Deadlock could only grin as he gently rotated his hips with the pace of Megatron’s fingers, some of the plating along his backstruts jumping. And Megatron simply kissed the smile off his features, enveloping him in hunger and desire so deep he nearly forgot about his ongoing “prank” — except for the occasional gasps and shaky ex-vents only audible to his internal ear. The rest of his peripheral senses were focused on Megatron’s other hand trailing down his waist, over his hip… His anterior node ached again, but Megatron’s touch did not venture there this time; instead, his fingertips teased along Deadlock’s spike housing. Deadlock broke from the kiss with a surprised moan.

 

“Come on,” Megatron murmured near his audio, stroking around its edges.

 

As though Deadlock needed that much convincing. He let his spike pressurize, letting out a sound that was almost a  _ whine _ as Megatron grasped him and stroked over his length. Deadlock’s hips jolted into the sensation, which in turn altered the angle of the fingers in his valve and sent a second wave of sensation rocketing up his backstruts. 

 

Now he didn’t have to even  _ try _ to play up his sounds of pleasure, with Megatron teasing both his spike and valve so expertly. Deadlock would need an actual gag to keep him quiet  _ now _ . And Megatron never discouraged how freely he expressed his delight when they were together — with Tarn still panting and grunting on the other end of their comm.-link, Deadlock felt absolutely no reason to restrain himself. The fact that Tarn was still on the line and  _ obviously _ self-stimulating amused Deadlock to no end, but his mind and body were somewhere else entirely.

 

Following Megatron’s guidance had been one of he only easy things in his life, and that hadn’t stopped at intimate engagements. The mech had made a steady rhythm between the fingers rocking into Deadlock’s valve and the hand working over his spike, all Deadlock had to do was follow it with the grind of his hips and let Megatron take him to the height of pleasure once again.

 

The second overload seemed even more powerful than his first, and if Deadlock weren’t mistaken — he thought he heard several more muffled sounds over the comm. He smiled giddily as he leaned against Megatron’s front, panting, shuddering deeply as the mech slipped his hands away from Deadlock’s pleasure-sensitive equipment. Megatron hummed against his audio, and even through the lingering heat of his interface array, he could feel how warm Megatron was beneath his plating.

 

And he could still hear Tarn panting, echoing himself. Deadlock’s shoulders quivered with suppressed laughter — but with his face mostly hidden, Megatron clearly found it difficult to parse. He pulled Deadlock back, peering down at him. “Are you okay?” 

 

Deadlock hummed, a smile on his lips — lax and too wide, instead of his usual smirk or devilish grin. It only came out around Megatron, usually after a particularly  _ good _ overload. And what was better than the second overload of the evening with Tarn on an open comm.-link with him, servicing himself to the sound of Megatron pleasuring a mech? Tarn was probably shivering with hate and frustration right along with his post-overload tremors right now! “Yes,” he finally replied. He let his engine purr. “ _ Very _ satisfied. What do you think?” 

 

Ostensibly, it was a conversational turn aimed at Megatron, but the implication carried through to the comm. Tarn made a disgusted sound and, after several long moments, found his voice again.  _ ::You are a  _ plague _ among the cause.:: _

 

_ ::Really? I’m not the one who interrupts our leader’s private time constantly,::  _ he murmured lazily.

 

_ :: _ You _ monopolize his time. Do not act as though  _ I _ am the one who overestimates his importance.:: _

 

Megatron cupped his helm in a hand, tugging Deadlock up for another kiss — brief, almost sweet. “I think it’s time I got another show,” he murmured. Deadlock could hear the shifting of plates between them and felt the warmth of Megatron’s extending spike next to his hip. 

 

Deadlock grinned. “You got it.”

_ ::All you do is overestimate your importance and overstay your welcome. Take a hint!:: _

 

The only response this garnered was a furious growl and the click of the comm.-line finally closing. Deadlock chuckled softly. Normally Tarn had more fight than that, but he must have had something to attend to. LIke cleaning himself up. Megatron arched an optic ridge, but Deadlock just met his gaze with a smirk. “Are we truly alone now, then?” Megatron asked.

 

Deadlock licked his lips. “Yes.”

 

“Good.” But he didn’t elaborate further and instead pulled him into a blazing hot kiss. Without Tarn’s marginal distractions, Deadlock felt more completely engrossed in the kiss and provided no resistance as Megatron grasped his hips to guide him where he was clearly wanted.

 

Though he was always loathe to ever stop kissing Megatron, Deadlock did so and gently prodded at Megatron’s chassis. His raw strength paled to Megatron’s, but the mech still laid back obligingly.

 

He’d said he wanted a show, right?

 

With Megatron’s hands still steadying him, Deadlock lowered himself onto his spike. Their difference in size always made the initial push so delicious; after two incredible overloads, he felt as though every joint in his frame was accommodatingly lax. Still, he relished the quiver of his mesh giving around Megatron’s spike as he rocked his hips down, his vents hitching.

 

Watching Megatron watch him, though… that got Deadlock going like nothing else. 

 

Megatron’s hands still squeezed at his hips, but they did not pin him the way they had before. Good, because Deadlock intended to waste no time; he rocked his hips, savoring the friction lighting up the nodes in his valve. He let out a shuddering gasp, plating twitching all up his backstrut as sensation flooded his sensornet. 

 

And as tempting as it was to keep going with that, to just roll his helm back and work himself over Megatron’s length, Deadlock kept his gaze locked with his partner’s. Maybe it was the fact that Tarn had interrupted, again, and gotten something of a comeuppance, but Deadlock wanted to revel in being the  _ only _ thing Megatron was focused upon. Even so, when he felt the crest of a third overload in his core, Deadlock could do nothing to fight it.

 

But here, Megatron slid a hand up his backstrut and pulled him in close. It made Deadlock’s angle awkward, but Megatron took over that as well, pedes planted on the berth to rock his hips into Deadlock’s — all to capture him in another, almost gentle, kiss.

  
Despite the slight shift, Deadlock still quickly succumbed to his climax, letting out a soft moan that was muffled in their passionate liplock. The feeling of Megatron overloading soon after only seemed to magnify and extend his euphoria.

 

As he felt limp and wrung-out with pleasure, Deadlock found it extremely convenient that Megatron had arranged them this way — he simply slumped atop the mech and curled up over his chestplate. 

 

They were quiet and still for so long, heat subsiding in their frames even while pleasure lingered, that Deadlock felt oddly on the edge of consciousness. That Megatron had begun gently stroking his hand over Deadlock’s backstruts only lulled him further. But after a while, his hand paused and he sighed. Deadlock had already started to rouse at this, but he lifted his helm when Megatron called his name.

 

His optics onlined and focused to find Megatron giving him a strange look. “Yeah?”

 

Megatron pursed his lips in thought. “Be careful, when it comes to Tarn,” he finally said.

 

Deadlock furrowed his optical ridges. “What?”

 

Megatron trailed his fingertips down Deadlock’s backstruts again. “I understand he has been — pushing boundaries, shall we say. But I wouldn’t count it as wise to continue antagonizing him.” 

 

Deadlock scoffed. “Sure, when he stops antagonizing me!” This earned a sigh from Megatron, as if it were what he’d expected to hear. “Look, I’m not a traitor and I can look after myself. His petty jealousy is annoying, but nothing I can’t handle.”

 

“Let  _ me _ handle that,” Megatron replied. “I know you can look after yourself and I do not expect you to just roll over. I would simply like to see… well, just a little more caution.”

 

The smaller mech shrugged. “Whatever.”

 

Apparently assuming — correctly — that this was the closest to an affirmation he was going to get out of Deadlock this evening, Megatron just wrapped his arms around the mech’s waist and allowed them both to doze. 

**Author's Note:**

> ✿ [twitter.com/stardustbytes](https://twitter.com/stardustbytes) ☆ [stardustland](https://cosmicstardustland.wordpress.com/about/) ✿


End file.
